Decode
by SeungSeiRan
Summary: Vignette series. Take Two: "'Whenever she does feel like talking', that's what he said."  Hwoarang x Tifa.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own either of the games or their respective characters.

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><p>They called it 'Heaven' and it's apt enough. Compared to its surroundings, the bar had managed to scrape together as much homeliness as it could gather. The air was thick with heavy hearts and the contrast oddly soothed him.<p>

Stranger still were the kids sprawled on the floor, playing a round of 'Go Fish!'.

Then again, Heaven played home to worse scoundrels from the looks of things. He shifted slightly on the heels of his feet, unsure of his place. Then he looked down over the shoulder of one of them, a boy with hair a dusty shade of sawdust. Eight cards in total; he could make out a three of hearts and an ace of diamonds. The boy chose the latter and raised it to the girl lying across from him.

"Ace of hearts?"

"No… I mean, 'Go Fish'."

Oh, so this was more like 'Happy Families' than the usual rules? The synonyms were beginning to get to him.

When someone's watching, they made a watching sound. The boy must have heard _him_ watching because he turned and looked up, cornflower blue eyes peering curiously through a tufty fringe. So he heard someone else watching too, measuring his actions by theirs. But instead of down to the floor, he faced the bar.

Now if he had to sum _her_ up in a few florid praises, maybe even some sonnets, he'd have brushed those all aside because why gush a river, when a single drop would do?

So, given a phrase or two, she was… kinda hot.

If not the smiley bubbly type, he guessed.

Well he'd fix that. All he had to do was flick a loose strand of russet hair away from his face, flash the trademark smirk and wait for a blush or a wink to flutter his way. He straightened his back for better effect, listening for anything other than the watching and the listening and the judging and the cards shuffling.

She blinked.

So… that had to count for two winks, right?

He figured that the ringing in his head was a nearby phone and not an alarm-bell when she suddenly stepped back into a narrow hallway, leaving the kids with a cautionary glance and him with a frown. The tear-off calendar tacked on the wall behind the bar stopped at February 14. The connotations had him wincing; lonely bar, a faded pair of kids keeping silent company, him, and her. The voice that wafted in from behind the door she'd left ajar was a soft, reassuring one.

"… no, Cloud, it's definitely not him again. Unless Turks do the whole rubber mask and smooth operator decoy thing now…"

She lost him at that name. What kind of a friggin' name was 'Cloud'?

"Ah, 'Go Fish'!" The boy peered triumphantly from behind his deck.

He heard the phone clicking back into place and the echoing thud of footsteps growing nearer.

"Anything I can get you, sir?"

The smile snuck back onto his lips because no one who knew better would ever call him that and, frankly, it tickled. "A name would do."

"Lockheart. And yes, I do mean well by that."


	2. Chapter 2

The older Tifa grows, the more thankful she learns how to be.

('Older'? She has got to stop using the children as yardsticks for measuring her age. She could easily pass as their sister. If she wanted.)

After the redhead leaves, it's another ordinary day wiping down counters and handing over cheap beers to surly customers. If Denzel and Marlene mind the infrequent company, they don't say anything about it. She wonders how many different variants of card games they can go through before they run out of rules (that are bent 'til they are broken and discarded once neither of them can decide who lost). But she chalks that up to fecund young imaginations.

Somehow, they always seem to find a way. She's glad that disease and destruction haven't eaten away into that part of their minds.

It's only when they're helping her close down later that Denzel suddenly remembers with a bright 'Oh, yeah!' and hands her a card. She's about to smile quizzically until she sees a phone-number scrawled over the ace of spades.

"'Whenever she does feel like talking', that's what he said."

... Well.

"He's got a lot of nerve."

(She'd die before admitting that she's... somewhat... a little... a _decently_ little bit flattered.)

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><p>Cloud arrives home later, tired but satisfied. She has a nice, warm feeling settling over her as they all sat down to dinner. Definitely this moment.<p>

"A redhead walks into a bar and hits on Tifa. She blinks." Denzel announces over his plate, obviously proud of his joke. This time, she cringes.

Cloud actually looks amused. "Oh, really? I'm surprised she didn't Ice him like the last one we had."

"I told you he wasn't a Reno, Cloud."

She doesn't know why she knows.

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><p>It dawns on her the next time Red shows up with that smirk. Apart from a rather flawed (albeit creative) attempt at a pass, he hadn't pressed her for much more than a name.<p>

He's a strange kind of quiet when he is (when he's not snidely commenting on how _crowded_ the place is). Like he's not used to separating what he wants from how he feels.

She won't lie when she admits (to herself) it's rather nice this way. He asked for a name and got one. One that speaks more for herself than she does.

What does surprise her is she thinks he actually gets that.


End file.
